Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1887-03-25

like the changing light on the burning breast
| of dove. The expression OF her face was
varied as the tints Of the many hued sea. But
the countenance told always Of n soul full Of
truth and strength, sunny sweetness and
sngleness of purpose.
All this in a child of 14l Yes, Shirley was
not turned out of the common mold. She
was as school girls might be, not rs they are.
| Even stolid, average humanity recognized the
| power and the promise there was in her. Col.
Carstone was a man of wealth. His children
| could have whatever he and the mother
thought was good for them. What promise
of life could be more rare and radiant than
Shirlcy's9
Only her father saw something that trou
blcd him.
"But I'm afraid for Shirley. She is so
easily deceived" he said. "People bear their
fate within their own breasts. The child
would lie down and make bridge of her
self for those she loved to walk over. She
carries prcdestination of martyrdom within
| her, somehow
"Tom, dear, you always did talk little
nonsense, you know" said his wife. "Shir-
| ley's the merriest child ] ever saw"
"Fore de Lord, said old Sam, "shes got
more sense nor anybody / ever seed, for a
| gal"
Shirley looked at her father instantly.
Papa" she asked, "hasn't girl much
sense a boy"
Papa smiled, and did not answer, at first.
| Then he said:
| Find out for yourself Shirley"
The question took hold of her 1t haunted
her thought She had perceptions under
meath the common pc rceptions Where other
children saw only the substance she unknown
ingly looked deeper, and saw the spirit.
She read everything she could lay hands on.
| Her imagination took fire as she read of war
riors, heroes and martyrs. The lesson of
their mighty deeds sank into the deep child
| heart, and blossomed in the clear child soul.
Her world of fancy was peopled with leaders
| and princes like Moses, with CAESARS and
| splendid crusaders like Richard the Lion
Heart. Bernard Palsy defying hunger and
want opposing those whom he held dearest.
tearing the very walls from his cabin, sacri-
iicing all to achieve one splendid result
| Bernard Palsy was to her the deification
of human will. Through the years of APP
| preaching wonanhood she walked as in
| dream
Nourishng youth sublime
With the fairy tales of science and the long re
suits of Time.
Most though, her heart went out to the
| few women heroes and teachers whose names
she met on the page of the worlds history
| Hypatia, Elizabeth, Zenobia. Her soul was
on fire as her eyes bent over the page that
told her about Joan OF Arc, the inspired maid
of Domromy. She, the woman soldier with
the iron helmet resting upon her golden hair,
with her shining armor and white war horse,
was the highest and greatest figure of all to
the child Shirley.
Later she read Homer Milton and Shake
speare, and their stately music rang a rhythm
to the beating of her heart. Still. too, and
ever through the years of girlhoOd would
come the old question she asked her father
that day:
Has a girl as much sense as boy?
Why was there no woman Homer, no
woman Shakespeare or Milton, Then Homer,
and Joan of Arc, and Shakespeare, and Rich
ard the Lion Heart mingled together in her
dreams, till out of all there stood before her
at last vision of a woman poet who should
be. She should be as great as the greatest, a
majestic woman, poet hero and teacher in
one. But not a martyr. There were no
martyrs in these days. The world had grown
too wise and kindly for that
SO she reasoned. AT last she awakened
once in the summer night suddenly. She
saw the stars shining in at the window and
heard the wind signing through the willows
down by the mill race She whispered to
herself and said:
81 will he the woman poet /, mvselfn
Then the new schoomaster came.